“I can’t imagine she would want this, and I could never force it on her.” Emma remembered her own death, and how the notion of choice was nonexistent. “I’ve never begrudged Lewis his decision. I wasn’t ready to die. But even broaching the subject with Ash could cause her to feel obligated, and make a decision based on what she believes I want, and not what is truly in her heart.”
“Does she love you?” Coleen asked the question as if she were asking the time.
“I - I don’t know.” She didn’t know. They had been together once, and then only partially, with Emma’s secrets wedged between them. The turmoil of the past week had no doubt left Ash feeling vulnerable, and whatever feelings or affections she may have for Emma were more than likely artificially amplified.
Coleen got up and gently rubbed Emma’s back, her voice soothing. “Step away from it then. Focus on Lara, and killing her. Once that’s done, then turn your attentions back to Ash.”
Emma tisked at Coleen. “You’re not subtle.”
Coleen shrugged. “Why bother?”
Taking a deep breath, Emma could feel the uncertainty of the future filling her up. It felt coarse and dry inside her heart and her head. She needed time to consider what was best for Ash and her. These feelings were new to Emma, and she didn’t know what she could bear. In the meantime, she would hunt down and kill Lara.
***
“Are you coming over?” Ash yawned into the phone, her neck stiff from falling asleep on her sofa.
Emma couldn’t help but smile having clearly woken the other woman from a nap. “I need to go into the office for a while, but I may be able to swing by after.” She paused, not wanting to commit to a visit she knew wasn’t part of her plan to give both her and Ash space. “It might be too late.”
There was a long pause. “Are you upset with me?” Ash hated that she had asked the question. It made her sound insecure and needy.
“Not at all.” Emma hated that her vagueness was clearly causing Ash to feel insecure. “I think a good night’s sleep may be in order for you is all.”
Ash wanted to sleep with Emma. She wanted the feel of her arms around her, and the security of knowing the woman was nearby. These feelings were foreign to Ash. Though she didn’t shy away from sleepovers and displays of affections, she had never felt the need to be near another person as acutely as she did Emma. “You’re probably right.” Her courage failed her, and she took the safer, less vulnerable route. “Good night then.”
Emma closed her eyes, her hand tightening around the phone. “Good night.” She hit the end button on her phone, and laid it down on her desk. She was sitting in her study, and for the first time in a hundred and sixty years, she felt exhausted. The simple act of not seeing Ash had left her feeling drained and sluggish. She wondered if the sacrifice - and its possible benefits - was worth the cost.
Chapter 17
Rudy’s Last Call was a small, dimly lighted bar that sat a few blocks off of a major expressway in north central San Antonio. The walls were covered in wood paneling, and the dark green carpet smelled of stale beer. As Emma walked in, she made a point not to breathe.
Inquiries were being made regarding Richard Dorsey’s disappearance, and Emma had taken the opportunity to discover where the lycan had spent his off hours. Given a lycan’s natural tendency toward bravado, she hoped the man had bragged about his partnership with Ela, and perhaps whatever dealings he may have had with Lara.
“What’ll you have?” The overweight Hispanic man behind the bar was wearing a brown t-shirt stretched tightly over his large belly. Faded pine trees were stenciled on the shirt, and below them the phrase I’ve Got Wood. He wiped his hands with a stained bar towel as he looked Emma up and down.
“A Shiner Bock, please.” She slid onto the worn wooden bar stool, glad she had taken the time to change after work into a pair of faded jeans, and a black pintuck style blouse. She already felt conspicuous, and arriving in the Gucci suit she had on earlier would have only made her awkwardness more evident.
The heavy set bartender slid the bottle of beer across the bar to Emma. “Tab?”
Emma smiled. “I’ll pay as I go.” She had left her purse at home, and reached into her back pocket and retrieved a thin bi-fold leather wallet and then a five dollar bill. “Keep the change.” The last thing she wanted was anyone, the bartender or a patron, to know her name.
Scanning the room, Emma took a drink of her beer. The Bock was thinner than its German counterparts, and not as sweet. On her second scan of the room, she saw a tall, broad shouldered man sitting in a tattered booth in the corner. His brown hair was trimmed short, and his hands were disproportionally large for his arms. He had four empty bottles of Corona beer in front of him, and was over half way through his fifth.
Tilting her head slightly to the right, Emma took a deep breath in through her nose. She cringed as she sifted through the layers of stench, ranging from dried vomit to stagnant urine, but her suspicions were confirmed. The man in the corner smelled of rotted meat and mildew. He was a lycan, and given his posture and the occasional greetings given him by other patrons, he clearly frequented the bar.
She knew the odds that Dorsey and this man didn’t know each other were slim. Lycans were, by their nature, pack animals, and though modern day living arrangements had made that less viable, they still managed to find each other. Picking up her bottle of beer, Emma walked toward the man.
“Hey, I was just going to get you another one of those.” A middle age Caucasian man with overly long sideburns stepped in front of Emma. He was wearing a pair of tan khaki pants, brown boots, and a wrinkled blue dress shirt.
Managing a smile, Emma leaned away from the man who insisted on stepping into her personal space. “Thank you, but I’m hardly through my first.” She attempted to step around the drunk man, but he side stepped in front of her.
“Doesn’t hurt to get a head start.” He leaned forward, and even though Emma wasn’t breathing, she imagined he reeked of cheap liquor.
“Oh, gosh, I don’t know. I should take it easy.” She looked at the beer bottle in her hand. “I’m a bit of a light weight.” She wrinkled her nose teasingly, and made a move to walk around the man.
“Don’t be like that.” The man went to grab Emma’s forearm, but she easily stepped away to avoid contact.
Emma leveled her gaze at the inebriated man. “We’re done here.” Her voice was low and menacing.
The man’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Fine. I was just being - being - gentlemanly.” He rubbed the top of his head, and stumbled over to the bar.
Emma looked up, and the lycan was gone. Five empty Corona bottles and a twenty dollar bill sat on the table. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and the smell of mildew. The lycan had walked out of the bar, and Emma quickly followed.
“Excuse me, sir.” Emma raised her voice just enough to be heard over the noise of the nearby expressway as the lycan walked around to the side of the bar.
The nearly 6’5” man turned his head slowly, and his eyes widened when he saw Emma. “Well, hi. Do we know each other?” A broad smile spread across his face.
Emma estimated she had maybe ten seconds before the man caught her scent and knew what she was. Whereas the odds of him making a scene in the bar had been low, he more than likely would have no such hesitation in a deserted parking lot.
Scanning the parking lot, Emma saw a dumpster sitting directly behind the lycan. There was a gap of nearly five feet between the container and the cinder block wall behind it. In a single lunge that would have been invisible to the human eye, Emma closed the space between her and the lycan. Digging her nails into the man’s shoulders, she picked him up off the ground, and propelled him toward the back of the dumpster.
Slamming the man onto his back with such force the concrete cracked around his head and shoulders, Emma straddled him at the thighs. Balling her fists up, she struck the lycan once, then twice in the chest. The sound of his sternum cracking was drown
ed out by the highway noise. Emma dug her elbow into the front of the man’s throat, and grabbed a handful of his hair.
“Do you know a vampire named Ela?” Her voice was low and guttural. Snarling at the man, Emma’s incisors fully extended, and her eyes shone a vivid, iridescent blue.
A series of coughs racked the man’s body, and he spat up blood before he could speak. “Fuck you.”
Emma tightened her grip on the man’s hair, and ripped a handful of dark brown hair from the scalp. The lycan clenched his teeth, and she felt his thighs expanding under her. “Don’t you dare shift. I will snap your neck before you have time to sprout a single hair.” She pushed her elbow further into the man’s throat.
“You’re dead, dead!” The lycan spat and scratched at Emma, his nails unable to break her skin.
Emma leaned back, took the man’s head in her hands, and slammed it into the concrete three times. Blood covered the ground and Emma’s hands as she wrapped them around the lycan’s throat. “Last time. Do you know a vampire named Ela? Or she may have gone by Michelle.” Emma was growing tired of this. She loathed these brute force tactics, but in her experience it was the only means a lycan understood.
“I - I don’t kn-” The lycan spoke through clenched jaws, the rows of teeth multiplying in his mouth.
Emma took a deep breath, and leaned down, her lips only an inch from the man’s right ear. “I will end you. First I will sever the mandibular from the os temporale. That effectively unhinges your jaw.” She turned the lycan’s head so their eyes met. “Then I will reach in and rip out your genioglossus, liberating your tongue from the bone.”
“Go fuck yourself, bitch!” The man spat at Emma.
Sitting up, Emma slowly wiped the blood tinted spit from her cheek, and in a split second, reached into the lycan’s mouth. Taking his tongue between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled the muscle just to the breaking point. “Think about this carefully now. For your sake, try to make a good decision.” The lycan clamped his jaw down in an effort to sever Emma’s hand at the wrist, but it was like biting into stone as the skin and bone were unyielding.
The lycan’s red eyes widened, the pain causing tears to stream from their corners. Emma grinned and wiped at the man’s face. “Shhh, it’s okay. I just need some information, and then you’ll be on your way.” She removed her hand from the lycan’s mouth.
The man’s voice was strangled with fear. “A lycan named Dorsey was taking hits from her, or at least he was promised some if he took care of a few things for her first.”
“Where was she staying?” Emma softened her voice, relieved the lycan was cooperating.
“Some hotel downtown, but the drops were happening north of the city. Some abandoned plant or something.” The man was shaking. “That’s all I know. He didn’t tell me much. He was worried he would have to share.”
Emma nodded. “Thank you.” In the blink of an eye, she was up and off the lycan. The man lay stunned while Emma put nearly a quarter mile between her and what she considered unseemly business.
***
Coleen had convinced Emma to go out with her. She had not enjoyed her bullying of the lycan earlier in the evening, and all she had really wanted was a quiet night in. The two women sat in an intimate corner of the Brooklynite. With the antique appointments reminiscent of a prohibition speakeasy, the dimly lit venue was known for both its discretion and eclectic liquor selection.
“You seem depressed, Em.” Coleen took a drink of her Glenlivet Exotic, the scent of chocolate and orange zest wafting over Emma.
“Coleen, please.” Emma was annoyed and resigned to finish her scotch and leave.
Coleen frowned. “What did I say?”
Emma nearly rolled her eyes at her friend. “I appreciate the necessity to address the Lara situation, and I don’t disagree with you about the predicament I’m in with Ash, but I won’t have you playing the innocent as to why my mood is cross.”
Coleen took Emma’s hand in hers. “Let’s not fight.” The woman practically batted her lashes at Emma. “What did you find out about Lara?”
Relieved Coleen opted to discuss the shifter instead of Ash, Emma put her glass down. “Dorsey was expecting a payment of blood from Ela in exchange for being her enforcer. Sounds like she was performing the more dastardly deeds in an abandoned plant of some sort north of town.”
Before Coleen could respond, a man’s voice broke into their conversation. “Hey, I know you.” Emma looked up to see Alan, dressed in a two-button charcoal colored, Ralph Lauren suit, with a blood red tie.
“Alan.” Emma stood, and briefly hugged the man. She looked over his shoulder to see if Ash was with him, a momentary panic setting in that she might have to navigate that situation with Coleen’s interjections. “How are you?”
“Splendid, and how are you two beautiful ladies doing?” Alan sipped from the martini glass he had in his right hand.
“You can’t be here alone?” Coleen smiled.
Alan winked. “You know me too well.” The man nodded in the direction of a thin, blond man sitting at the bar. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, and a teal colored knit Polo shirt with the collar popped. “He’s yummy.”
Emma couldn’t help but smile. She had liked Alan immediately. He was wonderfully clever and funny, and to add to his appeal, it was clear he cared very much for Ash. “Nice tie. Love the color.” Coleen smirked.
Alan raised his glass. “Gracias.” He turned his attention to Emma. “Speaking of yummy, have you seen our favorite detective lately?”
Emma chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to go into the complexities of her and Ash’s relationship, especially when there were entire segments of the story she couldn’t reveal to Alan. In addition, she hoped Coleen didn’t take this opening as an opportunity to discuss Ash. “We’ve talked a couple times on the phone, but I haven’t seen her in three days. Since the funeral.”
Alan frowned. “Why not?”
God, he’s going there. Between him and Coleen, there’s no hope for privacy. “We’ve been busy. Work and whatnot.”
“I can’t imagine the whatnot, but you should make a point to see her.” Alan’s date at the bar had turned and waved him back over. “Hate to tell you how to live your life and run, but yummy awaits.” He grinned, bowed his head slightly, and hurried off.
“You haven’t ended it with the human yet?” Coleen asked suspiciously.
“No, and to be clear, I never said I was going to.” Emma finished the last of her scotch, and reached in her purse for her wallet. “Just because it’s what you want to hear, and what you want to have happen, doesn’t mean either is true, Coleen.”
She laid two twenty dollar bills on the table. “I’m leaving. I need to be alone, and I can tell by your tone you’re ramping up for something akin to a lecture.” Emma stood. “And I’m not in the mood. Goodnight.” She didn’t wait for Coleen to respond, but suspected, based on the amused expression on the woman’s face, Coleen wasn’t the least bit deterred.
***
Ash was sitting on her sofa in a pair of gray workout shorts and a blue t-shirt. It was a little after six in the evening, and she had two days left until she was scheduled back at work. The time was ticking away at a snail’s pace. She could think of a hundred things to do, but the truth was she didn’t want to do anything. Sitting on her couch and feeling sorry for herself was about all she could muster. Self-pity wasn’t an emotion she indulged in very often, but given the events of the last few weeks, she thought now was as good a time as any.
It was ironic that every one of Ash’s cases were solved, but would never be closed. Ela was responsible for Paul Garrett’s death, and was herself dead by Rachel and Sara’s hand. Richard Dorsey had murdered Cris and four other officers, and had met an equally gruesome death. Taking stock of the carnage made her stomach cramp.
Ash looked at her phone that lay next to her on the sofa. With the exception of a few awkward text exchanges, she an
d Emma hadn’t spoken in four days. In spite of everything else, this left Ash feeling the worst. She knew she should let the possibility of being with Emma go. That in fact it was the more practical thing to do, but whenever she tried to imagine not seeing Emma, or worse, seeing her at work and having to pretend she didn’t care for her, Ash knew that wasn’t the answer.
She picked up the phone, and before she could think better of it, sent Emma a text. I have six Golden Girls episodes waiting to be watched. Interested? Ash put the phone down, and took a deep breath. She told herself she had cleared her side of the street, and whatever Emma did was on her.
After what was possibly the longest three minutes of Ash’s life, her phone buzzed. Should I bring beer?
Ash smiled, relief washing over her. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start. If you insist.
A minute later Emma responded. I insist. See you in about thirty minutes.
Ash got up and walked to her bedroom, she took her shorts and t-shirt off. Tying her hair up in a loose bun, she took a quick shower, and put a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt on. There was a knock at the front door. Ash glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Emma was nearly fifteen minutes early.
Walking down the hall, Ash pulled the clip from her hair, allowing it to cascade down her back. Smiling, she opened the door. “You’re ea-”
Lara stood in front of her, a mischievous grin on her face. “Miss me?” Before Ash could slam the door shut, Lara lunged at her. The force of the impact sent Ash flying backward into her living room. Lara turned and shut the door. Flipping the deadbolt, she crouched next to Ash, who was struggling to catch her breath. “I love that I can still take your breath away.”
Lara grabbed Ash by the hair, and pulled her toward the back of the apartment. Ash gripped the woman’s forearm and dug her nails into the warm flesh. Undeterred, Lara continued dragging Ash into the bedroom. “It’s one of the many perks of being a shifter. We bleed like anyone else, but our pain threshold is through the roof, and we heal so quickly it’s hardly worth your effort.” She glanced down at the bloody scratch marks. “Feels like a paper cut.”
Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series) Page 27
